Rain Day
by jenni3penny
Summary: "She was messin' with him too. The brazen curling of her smile met the brightness of her eyes and he couldn't help grinning into the realization that maybe... maybe not being able to read her all the time would be far more entertaining than he'd previously expected."


The rumbling sound of his laughter hummed up the side of her neck , all throaty and mischievous as he tucked her tighter into his lap and denied the straightening of her back. He shifted his chest forward, keeping the arm he had curled on her waist stringent and tight as his tongue followed after laughter and teeth. It was the sound that had distinctly followed the echo of Emily's bag thumping somewhere in the downstairs hall, the books inside it thunking into the polished wood of the floor just before her steps traveled.

"Cal." Gill whimpered at how full and supportively stretched the spread of his palm was up her spine, branding his heat on her as he drove a finger farther inside her and laughed again at her suddenly nervous wiggling. "Emily's home."

"Lives here, actually." His mouth was finding secret spots on her skin that made her shift even more in his lap, tongue lathing along them while he pulled his finger from inside her and made lazy circles against her clit to counter the loss. "So, yeah. Seems she is."

"Cal."

"What?" His thumb kept the ghosting rhythm against her clit, head lifted so that he could watch her sigh off a muted moan as he drove two fingers into her and flexed the palm on her spine at once. "This not doin' it for you?"

He could hear noise from the kitchen, awfully close to the stairs and thumping loudly. The sounds were completely surpassed by how roughly she suddenly dropped her head and sought his mouth with hers, a full throated moan throttling off her as he doubled the pressure of his thumb and sank his knuckles deeper inside her.

He'd had her wet enough before and now she was entirely soaked, drenching his fingers as he used the other hand to dig her farther and closer and harder into his lap. His other palm stroked down against her ass, squeezing against a perfectly (for him) shaped curve as he withdrew his fingers and circled the tip of one along her entrance, slicking along her folds as he grinned impishly.

Hearing his Gillian moan up at his bedroom ceiling was an experience so newly cherished that he hated to miss it in any way, even if it meant just watching her throat constrict on the muffled sound as her entire body arched her closer to his hand. "Cal."

"She's a smart girl." He disregarded her concern quickly, thrusting his fingers in and out of her with slow but deeply stretched movements, tapping against her clit with a ragged and uneven tempo that had her shuddering harder pressed down onto his hand. "Knows not to open that door if dad's left his unmentionables on the handle."

He couldn't keep his mouth off her throat any longer, regardless of the fact his daughter was downstairs. She kept baring it open to him, laying out the promising invitation of skin as she shook her sweat damp hair from her face. One of her hands lifted to swipe it back as the other dug at the back of his neck, nails marking into his skin as she shifted enough to rough her thigh against his cock and blow his brain into little bits.

If she didn't stop her shifting and wiggling he was plain gonna strap her down and start fucking her with his fingers until she -

"I could choke the life outta you." Gill demanded sharply, her breath rasped and her voice raw dry as she pressed the side of her mouth down into his stubble.

"Mmmm." A noise of heady and less than subtly sensual agreement brushed from his lips to the softness of her cheek. "Asphyxiation's not something I'da pegged on you but if you're in the Naughty Foster mood I can certainly accommodate that - "

"Dad?!" Her choked moaning and his stilled fingers both followed the sharpness of Emily's voice from half up the stairs. "You home?"

"Shhh." She felt him reach away and slowly draw the cool fabric of the top sheet up her back, fisting it around her as he buried his face into her throat and sighed. "Quietly then, darling."

If he was a gentleman, he'd let her down easily and sweet talk her from her embarrassment so that she didn't blush bright as a red light when they went downstairs.

"Hush now." Most self proclaimed gentlemen didn't have to option of pinching her clit hard enough to make her bite a stifled moan into their shoulder though, now did they?

Hell with genteel and polite and chivalrous - most didn't have a pile of wet and willing, beautiful Gillian Foster in their laps, either.

He gave another quick twist against the sensitive nub and then slid his finger slowly back into her, reveling in how damp and clamping and tight she was around him.

"Jesus, Cal." Sure as shit, not many _gentlemen_ got to hear that slaking moan come off her either.

"Dad?" Emily's voice was obviously impatient but also flicked a bit of humor down the hall from the top of the stairs and bounced bemusedly into his door. "I saw Gill's car. Don't make me get the hose."

"See?" He chuckled a whisper into how far down she ducked her head into his shoulder, the sudden flared heat on her flushing something more like embarrassment than lust. "Smart girl."

"Dad!"

"Yeah, in a bit," Cal finally called back, head lifted away from hers as he hugged her tighter into his lap and let her curl her legs closer around his waist as she cuddled in. "Do your homework or somethin', would ya?!"

It was a paused exhalation before he dropped his face into her hair, muttering annoyance, "Mouthy little shit."

Her abrupt but hushed laughter warmed his throat breathily and he shied his grin deeper into her hair as her body slumped full into the front of him. Cal slowly slid his fingers from her, feeling more than hearing the sharp little whimper she laid against his neck as her head lifted and her spine went flexing straighter at the loss. His lips rubbed a soothing sound along the side of her head, let it linger into her hair as he tried to force his breathing even, tried to press down the knot of pure heat that was twisting under his gut. He curved both arms around her with a happy growling and clutched her up tighter, letting her catch one hand against the sheet so that she could draw the cool fabric against over-heated and sweat prickled skin.

"Have to finish this later, I think." He couldn't help but preen a little into how devotedly she was stroking through his hair, her fingertips lightly brushing his scalp as she smiled over his daze. "My daughter's a right pain."

"Mmm." Gill's lips brushed a long and slowly made line against his forehead, the drift of it lowering his eyes closed as he enjoyed the delicate movement. "I should go anyhow."

"Don't you dare," he sharpened back as he lifted his head, nicking his teeth on her ear before letting his tongue sooth the same spot. "M'not facin' her wrath alone, gutless wench."

Gill laughed into how brightly teasing and tenderly warm the supposedly disparaging words had come off him, her lashes dipping into a countering smile, "Gutless? Who suggested an afternoon off and taking advantage of the empty house?"

"Right," Cal agreed quietly, eyes following the slowly made blink she gave him as her smile curved wider on pressed lips, "maybe just the wench bit then."

"Dad!"

"Bleedin' Christ, Em!" All his exasperation went into his pitch and his hands as he clutched her closer, groaning his glance down over her breasts as he intentionally crushed her up into his chest. "In a minute!"

Gill quietly watched the wanting little arch of one eyebrow, the pout that flit across his mouth as he sighed and brought a hand up the side of her rib cage, fingers catching near ticklish up her side before he pressed his hand between them. Her smile went broader over her lips and she studied the slow and pressing curve of his fingers as he closed his palm along one of her breasts and squeezed, another guttered noise rattling off him as his thumb raked over her nipple. She met the sound with a keened and shivered moan, stretching into the pinch of his thumb and the side of his forefinger as she watched him. Cal lifted his head into studying her eyes, enjoying how blown out her pupils seemed as her lips parted and she hissed out a controlled breath of barely there air.

"Really?" he taunted, tugging harder at her nipple before grinding his palm against her, closing his hand and squeezing. "Little rough? Yeah?"

"Well, they _were_ feeling left out," she hummed along his temple as both his hands found her breasts and stroked against them, giving her the pressure she needed before gentling the touches, slowing them as he wiped both palms slowly down the front of her.

"I've only two hands and one mouth, love - and you've so much touchable skin," he accused softly, sliding his hands back up to her breasts while he dropped his mouth between them, started stroking teeth and tongue back and forth.

"We should get down there before she loses her patience." She was enjoying his lips wrapped around one nipple far too much for her words to actually sound all that serious and he ignored them at first, tapping his tongue against it before his teeth scraped and she dug on his shoulder. He grunted at how sharply she stung into skin with her nails as she whimpered, soothing his tongue damply where he'd nipped her before lifting his head into her watching.

 _Gorgeous_... her head tipped down and eyes darkened up, lips still blushed up a little and full as she licked against them and made a crooned sound of understanding, complete and utter understanding, low in her throat. And he wasn't even sure of what she understood about him. Well, besides everything.

He'd never get used to having her this way, having her close and loving and lustful at once. Wasn't fair to the rest of humanity that he'd finally wiled her away, tricked her into somehow loving him, despite the worst bits of himself.

"What?" she whispered like she had the singular right to all his answers, all his truths – trite or triumphant.

Well... sod humanity anyhow. Most of the rest of the population was full of fuckwits who didn't deserve her, him being the very first and very finest of them. Grand Master Fuckwit Lightman, at her service. But... he still had her somehow, inexplicably cradled in his lap and lookin' damn adorable as she shouldered the sheet higher and grinned into how tenderly he was studying her.

He had her – and he still couldn't completely explain how that'd happened.

Though, he could easily and without remorse crow that pride every-bloody-where if she'd let him.

"I should bring you off before we go." He murmured and the sudden slap of her hands against his shoulders was purposefully playful. He let her throw his balance back as he chuckled, slumping his spine as his elbows landed onto the mattress and he relaxed back. "Get your eyes all hazy and pretty."

His eyebrows lifted in a leering tease, teeth digging hard into his cheek as he studied how delightfully wanton she actually looked straddling his lap and naked save for a sheet hooked up on her slim shoulders.

"Cal, don't."

"Rather take my time with it anyhow," he sulked into shrugging, rubbing his fingers against her stomach and then offering his palm as ballast as she straightened into shifting off him. "And you're gonna be half wantin' now. Equally as pretty on you, love."

She gave him a look that was completely indulgent but shy at once, like she didn't entirely believe in his words but knew for a fact that all the affection and lusty loving that made them was audibly true. Her hands wrapped the sheet up around her curves as she shook her hair from her face and sent a searching look over the bedroom, trying to spot bits of clothing and falling silently into the realization that half of it was probably still strewn from the kitchen, up the stairs and down the hall. Cal chuckled into the crestfallen look she gave him before he reached up near his pillows and nabbed the button up that was wrinkling itself in a slump at the head of the bed. He chucked it in her direction as he sat up, watching her tuck it into the front of herself with an appreciative smirking and a wink that made his heart stutter up and choke.

"Some bottoms in the top drawer." He finally managed to mutter, jerking his head toward the bureau before he gave up on watching her and reached for the nearest pair of pajama pants he could find.

The sound she made was obviously gratitude but she stalled half across the room, turning toward him with a squinting that caught his attention. "You said Emily had lab group tonight."

"Did I? Must've confused my nights." He forgot the pants aside (understandably, he'd argue) as he arched a brow into watching her pinch the shirt and sheet in her fingers while managing to still draw lace panties up onto her hips with one hand. Talented with her hands, his girl. And not even in an overly lascivious way – just plain multi-tasking sexiness.

The frown that washed down over her features momentarily tripped him still, though. It had his chest latching up just before she dropped the sheet from her skin and flicked the fabric of the shirt straighter. "You knew she'd come home around now."

Maybe he'd miscalculated her patience.

Maybe her limit for his absurdity had been met but... didn't seem likely. Not for something like this.

Foster'd most always mess around with him before, even when her ends were frayed up – she had always been his best rainy-day-playtime-partner. Well, her and Em, really, after his mother. Zoe'd never had near as much patience for being so silly – so fierce and fiery, but not whimsical. Not silly or so freely light-hearted. Not the way Gill could be. And Gill could be both, actually.

"You knew," she demanded as she leaned over him, her fingers drawing the lightly colored fabric of his shirt over her equally paled skin just before she pinched the inside of his thigh and made his hips twitch as he slapped her hand away.

"Oi." His fingers wrapped on her wrist and tugged on her, jerking her half bent into his leaning as a full smiled graced over her features and loosened the hold of his lungs.

She _was_ messin' with him too. The brazen curling of her smile met the brightness of her eyes and he couldn't help grinning into the realization that maybe... maybe not being able to read her all the time would be far more entertaining than he'd previously expected. And her pinchin' that high at him, damn near takin' a snipe at his balls? Fierce and fiery with whimsy on top, _thank you very much_.

He took momentary advantage of the position, sending a searching glance down the naked front of her and the way the fabric parted and shadowed on her. "You keep those claws to yourself now, Foster."

"Did you..." Pretty, she was. Stunning, really, when realization and understanding and so much knowledge of him brimmed up in blue eyes and her jaw lifted just a smug fraction in her glaring. Downright gorgeous, he'd admit. "You set this up."

Cal felt the smirk tug at one side if his mouth, nudged his jaw up as he blinked coyly at her and watched her glance trip over his lips and back to his eyes. "Had to tell 'er someday, didn't we?"

"I didn't necessarily want to do so while - "

"While what?" He jerked her closer while intentionally brushing his lips onto hers, making a growled noise deep in his throat, let it rumble into her lips as he kissed at her and hushed his whisper. "While I had two fingers inside you? Hmmm? That what you mean?"

Something of her resolve collapsed completely because he felt her sway closer even as her voice went low with frustration, "You're such a - "

He nibbled the words still and silenced them from her lips, paused her supposed frustration by sipping a kiss from her. "Easy now."

"Impossible son of a - "

Did it again, too. Drew an ironically slowly rushed and hushed kiss from her that had a sigh surfacing slowly from the base of her lungs and up the stretch of her throat, passing parted lips. "Think you've a crush on me, Foster. Y'say such nice things."

She looked dazed suddenly, stirred up surprised by the urgent gentleness that had repeatedly interrupted her annoyance with him. Slowly her head shook back and forth as he grinned at her, watched her button the shirt he'd given her closed against her stomach and breasts and up, leaving the top two loose. He realized just by the way her hair shushed the collar that she'd been letting it grow longer lately, maybe longer than he'd consciously noted before.

"Think it's more than a crush," she admitted in a swaying softness, her fingers stroking once on him at the shy and shrugging confession that lightened her eyes before she headed for the bedroom door. "You coming down?"

And still, there she went, without any pants on. All beautifully bare legs and his white shirt buttoned up the front of her like it'd forsaken him for softer skin – not that he'd blame it all that much. She had exceptionally lovely skin. Barefoot and hair mussed, make-up smudged and still comfortable enough to meet Emily's self satisfaction and likely ten rounds of teasing.

Seemed she wasn't half as embarrassed nor nervous as he'd figured. _Good girl._

"Darling," he launched off the bed with the word and caught up around her, slinging his arms about her waist and cinching her angled with his leaning as he rubbed his nose at familiarly silky hair, "I won't be coming down for years. I happen t'very much like this cloud I'm on."

Gill rolled her eyes as he let her loose and she tugged the door open, swinging it wide as she stepped through it. "You, pants, make a physical connection. Any day now, Lightman."

He just rolled his eyes and lifted his voice up over her shoulder, "Both of ya keep your knickers on!"

Cal jerked his head back and laughed freely into the thump of the door as it slammed closed in his face.


End file.
